Weekend Sendoff

This Weekend Sendoff is brought to you by The Doors and the song Peace Frog because not only is it a perfect song to kickoff a Friday happy hour, Jim Morrison proclaims in it that there's "blood on the streets in the town of Chicago".

With the fucking god awful cock-sucking Bahston Red Sawx in town against the White Sox and the St. Louis Drunk Drivers facing the Lovable Losers, there is sure to be a few drunken altercations in and around the respective stadiums. I'd attempt a gay joke about Cubs fans but lately they've stepped it up from their usual slap-fights and have taken to hospitalizing motherfuckers so give them a hand, and give that Sox fan back his eye for fuck's sake.

When I think Key Division Match-Ups, I Think Munson Vs. Big Ern

That's right, both the Cubs and White Sox have a huge four game series on the road with the teams that are nipping on their heels.

I would take the time to expand more on each series, but I have too much actual work to do (and by work, I mean read other people blogs). So, I'll go the lazy route and let Phil Rogers take care of the Cubs-Brewers series. For the White Sox-Twins, I give you Scott Merkin.

Wrestling with Long Wang..Not Just An Afternoon Endeavor

When the University of North Carolina goes out to recruit for athletes, apparently even hilariously suggestive names don't get in the way of a full scholarship.

Meet Long Wang, freshman wrestler for the Tar Heels and owner of the funniest athlete name since Mike Hunt.

I can only hope that his name in Chinese means something like "Walks Through Walls" but in English it means his life is full of shame and ridicule.

The only way his name could be funnier would be if his middle name was "Phuckin", in which case I would assume his parents are in fact, the funniest people ever to have lived.

If I were wrestling against this guy, I'd tell everyone in the stands to wait until he is introduced over the loudspeaker and do something like this...

Announcer: "Now wrestling at the 160lb. weight class, from Cary, NC: LONG WANG"

Opposing fans: "PROVE IT!"

I'm here all week folks.

Programming Note

For those of you lucky college kids home for the summer with nothing to do, or if you're just bored at work, the Bulls take on the Miami Heat in about 10 minutes in the Orlando Summer Leage. Michael Beasley is out of the game, virtually removing any interesting storyline but for the diehards, this game is a must-see.

You can watch the game on your computer via the world wide web and NBA.com - and I highly recommend you do because these announcers are hilarious. They know only about 15 people are listening so they say whatever they want and it's actually really funny.

In the first game today Indiana played Oklahoma City and roughly 90% of the broadcast was spent coming up with hilarious fake names for the new Oklahoma City (god that's fucking annyoing to type) team.

So check it out - take a break from masturbating/Microsoft Excel in your respective states and check out both Vinny Del Negro and Derrick Rose's 1st "game" as a Chicago Bull.

Just Because

One of my buddies from Phoenix was in town last night and told me to watch this.

**Noce says he found it first, and told our friend. Too fucking bad Noce, Wiese gets credit.

Pooping at Work: Awkward Encounters or Free Thinking Time?

I've been sitting on this one for a while now. (Did you see what I did there?) Today seems like the perfect day to unleash this age-old debate, so here goes.

Every single day, millions of us white-collar stiffs file into our offices and go about our usual routine of avoiding work and secretley emailing co-workers funny jokes and links to Gisele Bundchen's bare ass.

While there are some exciting things during the typical workday (see: lunch), there also are a few things that are inevitably going to occur. I'm talking about pooping.

There are two schools of thought on the issue of pooping at work and I just want to address both of them and see what you think is the best argument. I myself, usually have no problems with pooping at work but there are a few aspects about the whole procedure of it that sometimes can truly be as awkward as that first time your parents caught you looking at porn. Yea, yesterday was rough.

Moving on.

The first side of the pooping at work issue are the people who are so afraid of the awkward encounters surrounded by taking a dump in the employee bathroom, that they will either hold it in, or head out of the office in hopes of finding a neutral playing field for their business.

There are many reasons why this awkwardness is so scary for some people, and I see them everyday in my office. Here's just a few examples of encounters I've had with some of the other employees in this fine media outlet.

First of all, let me just say that on our floor there are three, count 'em, three women's bathrooms and only one men's bathroom. And the one men's bathroom is about the size of a file cabinet. Everytime I walk in and both my shoulders touch the walls, I want to punch a baby. The reason why there are three bathrooms for the bitches on my floor and only one for the men is because back in the day, women were only allowed to perform only the simplest of tasks. These included: answering phones and placing ads in the newspaper.


Now, thanks to all those bra-burners, men and women can co-exist in the same working environment, with little to no daily sexual harrassment. The times may have changed, but the skanks on my floor are still douching themselves in the bathroom of their choice, while I'm forced to relieve myself in our little matchbook-sized pisser.

The main thing I hate when taking a shit at work is when someone next to you is also shitting. If I go into the stall and someone is in the other stall, I politely wash my hands as to not offend the person innocently shitting and leave.

If it's an emergency and I've got to make something happen, I may or may not just sit down and go for it. Which leads me to my next problem with shitting with someone in the bathroom: there's no way you can act like you do at home when you're taking a shit at work, it's just not the same. After a night filled with $1 beers and bar food, my stomach is fighting a civil war with my colon in an effort to rid my body of those lazy brown turds who all seem to look alike somehow. I would like to go into the bathroom and enjoy an article or two while letting the normal process play itself out.

However, at work, this is impossible. Farts have to be muffled, courtesy flushes have to be made, and god forbid if I ate Taco Bell the night before, I'm coughing the entire time to disguise the sound of the River Nile coming out of my ass. All this because Bob from accounting has walked in and I don't want him to think that I'm a complete fucking slob, even though I am.

Other problems are, but aren't limited to, walking out after a stinky shit and finding a co-worker who just walked in making the face you make when you smell something really nasty. Some people are proud of their work, but not me. I can't exit the room until I'm positive there's nobody in there.

Also, we have this little Mexican cleaning lady that somehow always seems to choose the time I'm shitting to come in and clean up in there. She gives the courtesy knock but even though I manage to utter out a "yeanotnow!" she always opens the fucking door. At this point I just lose it and yell, "go away!" and she gets the message. I like to think we've started a little shitter-cleaner relationship. Maybe tomorrow I'll leave her a little present, if ya know what I mean.

So fellow workplace shitters, where do you stand on this one? Do you enjoy shitting at work and throw caution to the wind while you're doing your dirty work? Or are you like those people who absolutely dread the next possible awkward encounter in the company bathroom? Either way, you're not alone.

Cubs Predictions via Simpsons Characters

Rather than coming up with some bullshit predictions and pulling obscure statistics out of my ass in an attempt to predict five or six random events throughout the season, I thought I'd give you a little more of an entertaining post.

A post about a TV show that once captivated an entire demographic of children for more than a decade infused with a Major League Baseball team that has tortured its fan base for over 100 years.

I give you, the 2008-09 Cubs, as Simpsons characters. If anyone is wondering, I got the character descriptions from the Simpsons home page.

Joseph Fitzpatrick Fitzgerald Fitzhenry "Joe" Quimby, a.k.a. "Diamond Joe" Quimby, or simply Mayor Quimby is the mayor of Springfield. Quimby has long served as the Democratic mayor of the fictional city of Springfield. He appears as a slick, opportunistic politician whose chief priorities seem to be keeping himself in office, womanizing, and various forms of corruption.

He is known to be a womanizer, and to occasionally amuse himself with pornographic playing cards during town meetings. Quimby was once the subject of 27 separate paternity suits; a result, no doubt, of his frequent womanizing.

Jim Hendry, a.k.a "Jim Spendry" , or simply a heart attack waiting to happen, is the General Manager of the Cubs. Hendry has long served as the signer of checks for the fictional dream that is a Cubs World Series Title. He appears as a savvy, opportunistic General Manager with an open checkbook for the latest thrill. Hendry's chief priorities seem to be spending a shit-ton of other people's money, keeping himself and his job alive, excersizing, and various forms of awkward smiling.

Homer J. Simpson
A devoted husband, Homer leaves his wife with few complaints. When pressed, however, Marge did once acknowledge to a marriage counselor that Homer “forgets birthdays, anniversaries, holidays (both religious and secular), chews with his mouth open hangs out at a seedy bar with bums and lowlifes, blows his nose in towels and puts them back, and scratches himself with his keys.”

Lou Piniella
A devoted Manager, Lou leaves reporters, umpires, and opposing fans with few complaints. When pressed, however, umpires have acknowleged that Lou "has a strong odor of Brut, forgets even the most common slang terms for umpires, spits like a banshee, hangs out in his office with bums and lowlifes, blows his nose on the bases and puts them back, and scratches himself with the lineup card."

Marge Bouvier Simpson
Marge is the putty that just barely holds the Simpson family together week after week. By sensibly drawing the line at such frivolous expenses as an electric garage opener and changes of clothing for her children, Marge manages to stretch Homer’s modest salary to cover the tremendous costs incurred by a family of the new millennium.

Jason Marquis
Marquis is the putty that just barely survives in the Cubs starting rotation week after week. Jason can't even seem to figure out which hand is his strong hand, as he bats lefty while throwing righty. If it were up to him, he'd lead off every game. Marquis was a member of the National Honor Society in High School and has resides in Staten Island, NY in the offseason with his wife, who is responsible for making sure their kids don't look too Jewish.

Bart Simpson
Bart is the most misunderstood Simpson. He is constantly frustrated by the narrow-minded people of Springfield who judge him merely by his thoughts and actions. At heart, he’s just a good kid with a few bad ideas, a couple of really bad ideas and one or two that are still being reviewed by the Springfield district attorney.

Carlos Zambrano
Zambrano is definitely the most misunderstood Cub, and it has nothing to do with his skills with the English language. He is constantly whipping his arms, legs and probably his cock in violent motions, usually after a strike out. He has brawled with his teammates, lashed out at coaches and even the fans, but really he's just a kid at heart trying to throw "da beisbol" as hard as he can on every single pitch.

Maggie Simpson
Over the years, we’ve watched Maggie grow from a cute pacifier-sucking infant into a pacifier-sucking infant who’s said her first word, “Daddy”. This places Maggie just behind Bart and slightly ahead of Homer in vocabulary development.

Kosuke Fukudome
Over the years, the Cubs front office has watched many Japanese players thrive overseas, only to finally pull the trigger on Fukudome, who, by my count, has yet to utter his first English word. This places Kosuke just behind former Cub Sammy Sosa and slightly ahead of Alfonso Soriano in vocabulary development.

Moe Szyslak
Moe Szyslak, a former boxer, is the owner and operator of the local Springfield drinking establishment, a place he inventively named Moe’s Tavern. Moe’s is a place where everybody wants to borrow your money. It’s a place where you can feel at home, if you were raised in a holding tank for drunk drivers. A place where you can drown your sorrows in an overpriced, heady rush of cheap swill.

Kerry Wood
Wood, a former starting pitcher, is the future owner and operator of a Wrigleyville drinking establishment, a place he will inventively name K's Tavern. K's is a place where everyone wants to borrow Wood's money. It's a place where people who never lived up to their potential can feel at home, if you were raised as a Cubs fan. A place where you can drown your sorrows in the player who was overpriced, heady and not even a cheap thrill in his career as a Cub.

Ned Flanders
Ned Flanders is irritatingly optimistic and cheerful. Ned even keeps kosher, “just to be on the safe side.” This contrasts starkly with his upbringing, as Ned’s parents lived like freaky beatniks, without believing in any rules.

Ryan Dempster
Dempster is an irritatingly optimistic ginger bastard who cursed the Cubs this year by predicting that they would win the World Series. Ryan not only goes out with women but also enjoys the company of male dates "just to be on the safe side." This contrasts starkly with his upbringing, as Ryan's parents were actually a gay couple who lived in the country, without believing in sex with a women of any kind.

Barney Gumble
If there’s one thing Barney Gumble loves more than beer, he hasn’t discovered it yet. And not for want of trying. Hard liquor, sterno, cough syrup, turpentine, he’s tried them all. Once, in a fit of desperation, he drank some non-alcoholic champagne, with near-fatal consequences. Barney would kill his own brain for beer.

Aramis Ramirez
If there's one thing Aramis Ramirez loves more than fast food, he hasn't discovered it yet. He tried to give it up, but he just can't stop eating. Wendy's, McDonald's, Steak 'N Shake, Portillos, he's tried them all. Once, in a fit of desperation, he ate five Crave Cases from White Castle, with near-fatal consequences. Aramis would kill his own huge ego for food if he could, but he's usually on deck.

Dr. Nick Riviera, M.D.
Dr. Nick Riviera, M.D. is a quack physician (although he claims to be "just as good as Dr. Hibbert"), and represents doctors who studied at dubious medical schools. Riviera has a medical degree from Hollywood Upstairs Medical College (where he apparently spent much of his time using his ability to acquire prescription drugs to impress a succession of attractive women back in the 1970s).

Larry Rothschild
Rothschild, the Cubs pitching coach since 2001, is a quack physician (although he claims to be "just as good as he was back in Tampa Bay"), and represents a lost art form in baseball: coaching. Rothschild has a pitching degree from the University of How the Fuck Old Are you Anyway College (where he apparently spent much of his time using his ability to mis-diagnose prescriptions to washed up pitchers and up-and-coming talent to impress a succession of General Managers, fans, and women in the early 2000s).

Clancy Wiggum
Clancy Wiggum, the donut-scarfing, graft-accepting Chief of the Springfield Police Department, takes the law into his own hands, often making up his own laws right on the spot, in order to see justice done. Though he prefers to spend his time noshing at Krusty Burger or napping in his own patrol car, when duty calls Wiggum springs into action.

Alan Trammell
Trammell, the newly named bench coach for the Cubs, takes the law into his own hands, often making players do pushups right in the dugout with little to no notice at all. A pretty successful player in his day, Trammell thinks that anyone who doesn't "leg out" a single or stretch a double into a triple, is just "hot-doggin" it. Though he prefers to spend his time watching re-runs of tapes he made from his career or napping with his baserunning whistle still in his mouth, when duty calls Trammell never ceases to make even the most hard-working player look like a "Mary".

As a fitting end to this madness, I thought it would be correct to come up with a song for the 2008-09 Cubs season. As you probably know, the Cubs are now under the ownership of Sam Zell, who as a Simpsons character would be Number One, or the leader of the sacred tradition of the Stonecutters. So I thought up a song that would end every Stonecutter/Cubs ownership meeting and it goes a little someting like this:

Who controls the Wrigley crowd? Who keeps an entire fan base loud? We do! We do!

Who leaves World Series off the maps? Who keeps the bleacher bums under wraps? We do! We do!

Who holds back the Felix Pies? Who makes Ron Santo his Mai Tais? We do! We do!

Who robs the Cub fans of their sight? Who rigs every Bartman night? We do! We do!

Now listen to the original and input my lyrics in the appropriate spots. I think we have a winner with this one.

Happy 311 Day

That's right folks, today is 3/11, which means it's officially 311 Day. I'm kinda upset it took me until 12:30 to realize this, but what are you gonna do? Also, the fact that it took a fax from our finance department displaying the date to make me realize that today was even 3/11 made it all the more funny, because I'm sure that's what the band had in mind when they conceived the idea for 311 Day.

If you're still reading and clueless to what 311 Day means, it's got a lot to do with the band called 311. In fact, it pretty much has everything to do with them because they created the fucking concept.

Right now they are rocking it out in New Orleans all day long while I'm stuck at my office wishing I was at home "celebrating" with a bong and day of couching.

Bye the way, why the fuck must everything be held there now? How long does it take for their economy to be "boosted" by all the shit that goes on there?

Oh yea, I already went to college.

Now before you go all "Do you know how I know you're gay?" on me for promoting 311, kiss my ass ok, I happen to enjoy their music. While they do have some gay songs (All Mixed Up, Love Song, I'll Be Here a While), they are a great live show and have plenty of hard-rocking jams, my favorite being either Omaha Stylee or You Wouldn't Believe.

In a tribute to the song that first gave the band some attention, here's a video of Do You Right off their uber-creative 1993 CD titled "Music". I watched the video and decided to do a little breakdown of the highligts, ala My Brain Says Rage, but this time not with gay country music.




Hey check it out, MTV didn't suck quite yet, and actually still played music!

The beginning of the video appears to be set in the Midwest, maybe in Nebraska, which is where the original band members are from. Eventually they moved out to L.A., because who the fuck is going to make it famous saying they're from Nebraska?

:19 - These two look like a gayer version of Jay and Silent Bob, sort of a Ray and Mexican Rob. Bonus points for the Starter jacket though.

:21 - Oh, we're in California now! That was quick. Let's look at the ocean like a bunch of Daniel Larussos.

:31 - Snapping ≠ dancing. Neither does bouncing or pretending to surf while bouncing.

:35-1:07 - Why so shirtless? Seriously, why?

1:10 - What the fuck? A Green Bay Packers hat and a L.A. Kings jacket? In the jungle? I guess you need to be high to understand. And more "surf dancing"?

1:12 - Stop touching the monkeys

2:18 - From "surf dancing" to the "pretend handshake" dance. I can't decide which one is worse. All this while Mexican Pablo dances in the background with his back to the camera.

2:40 - I'm beginning to question whether this song was written for a girl or a dude, so much man chest going on here.

2:46 - 'We're freestylin'

2:56 - Ok, now everyone in the band has officially been shirtless at one point in this video. So gay. I wonder who's the bread and who's the meat in the band? Wait...yea I still wonder.

3:35 - And they end with some more "surf dancing"

After careful consideration, I've concluded that the song is 10000 times better than the video. But cut them some slack, in 1993 they were still trying to find their niche in the rock world.

Either way, I still like them and will gladly take on criticism from people who think they're "too cool" to enjoy their music.

Happy 311 Day ya bastards.

A YouTube Day Eh?

My partner in blogging and usually in drinking, Dr. C has posted a YouTube clip today featuring a band that's name is quite punctual since Valentine's Day is coming up. I think that's about the only compliment I can give them because I listened to about half of the song and realized that these kids were probably the fags who acted hardcore and tough Friday-Sunday while Monday-Friday they were training to become Eagle Scouts and watching Anime.

I'm not trying to one-up my buddy's band preferences because we usually share the same opinions on music but I really can't get into the modern MTV version of metal. It just sounds a little to contrived for my tastes. I rarely listen to new bands because I just assume that they all sucks nowadays.

Anyway, here's a clip that I thought would do nicely. I love Steve Vai and this song makes frequent appearances on my ipod. Not to mention I think this might be the inspiration for Blue Man Group. Which reminds me of one of my favorite quotes from TV. "Tobias: Oh, no, no. I’m not in the group yet. No, I’m afraid I just blue myself."

Enjoy Steve Vai jerks. Watch for the crazy solo around 4:30 and lots and lots of amazingly creepy faces from Vai, who fucking rocks this song.

A Look at some ESPN Member Douchebags

Welcome to our 2nd installment of ESPN Member Douchebags. The seemingly endless amount of ammunition provided by "the Leader" has brought commenters from across the USA together, allowing every semi half-witted Dick and Jane the opportunity to pretend like what they have to say is important.

I personally only use the comments section to shamelessly advertise the existence of this website, because it's hilarious how every story, no matter what the original subject, ultimately turns into a racial argument. It could be a story about Darko Milicic dropping 25 and 5 on Phoenix and assholes will somehow turn that into an argument over Brown v. Board of Education in no less than 40 comments. I just don't get it.

On to today's feature commenter. This proud fella by the name of "RytgersjaffoII" has this to offer on Joe Gibbs' retirement from the Washington Redskins organization.

"He needs somebody who can manage the team... I mean the guy is spending a ton of dough bringing in talent, they just buy the wrong guys and the wrong coaches... those are GM/Coaching issues... The Skins do have some talented players, but unfortunately there's only one Belichick and only one Coughlin... the Skins blew it not going after Coughlin three years ago..."

Coughlin, as in Tom Coughlin? Are you really claiming that Tom Coughlin is a better coach than Joe Gibbs? The same Joe Gibbs who's posted a 171-101 overall record as a coach of the Redskins? The same Joe Gibbs that won three Super Bowls ('82, '87, '91) and went to the playoffs in ten of his 16 seasons as head coach? What did Tom Coughlin ever do besides post a 68-60 record as coach of the Jaguars? I remember him doing a good job of getting on the bad side of every player he currently coaches on the New York Giants.

Anyway, here's this asshole's profile on ESPN:



Wow. That's the picture that you chose to broadcast your image to the entire world? A red flannel under what looks like a 'Judas Priest' shirt as you're eating what appears to obviously be a milkshake from Sonic. I say Sonic because those restaurants are only found in awful cities like Pittsburgh, where this jagoff hails from.

I also love the fact that under "Occupation" he has listed "Law Student". While that may seem like a worthwhile endeavor and a most respectable position, this fucking guy was born in 1973. That makes him at least 34 years young and still in Law School. Impressive.

I won't even make fun of the teams he has listed as "Favorite Teams" because do jokes really need to be made about the Pirates, Penguins, Penn State and Rutgers?

So "RytgersjaffoII" congratulations for being our ESPN Member Douchebag! You look like the bastard child of David Spade who just crawled out of his mom's basement to go rent "Clerks" and remember better days.